A deep-seated hurdle: Spying on my parents making love as a child

Writing this down today is a release for my inner feelings; otherwise, it would have remained inside like a hurdle.
My family was poor when I was little, but I didn't really feel poor then, probably because it was the same in the countryside. I was 11 years old and still sharing a bed with my parents. They were in their forties then, and at that age, their libido was probably quite high. So I often witnessed them making love.
I was probably in third grade then. Back then, very few households in the countryside had electricity; kerosene lamps were the norm, accompanying me as I grew up year after year. So, after dinner, I would go to bed around 8 pm. A big bed, a big quilt—that's where my parents and I slept until I was 14, in fifth grade.
I don't remember how many nights I'd wake up after an hour or so from sleeping, the bed shaking. I'd vaguely hear my parents' sounds of pounding. I didn't dare make a sound, so I pretended to be asleep with my head covered. I remember one time very clearly, my dad was having sex while saying, "You slut, you just want me to fuck you." My mom didn't say anything, just moaned. It lasted about 20 minutes. They finished, maybe just wiping themselves with a towel, not even showering. Conditions in the countryside are limited, especially in winter.
Eavesdropping on my parents making love, I was already aroused; I touched it, and it was very hard… Imagining them making love, my mind was filled with images of my father's penis and my mother's vagina. I slowly fell asleep after they finished. (Perhaps this constant repression has led to my somewhat bisexual sexual preferences now, because I keep thinking about what my father's penis looks like.)
What I imagine, I always want to make real. Finally, one summer afternoon, my father was taking a nap. I secretly lifted his shorts from his thighs and saw his penis—the same penis that my mother used for lovemaking on our family's big bed. My father's penis was long and thin, with a protrusion in the middle, I didn't know what it was. My mind kept replaying the image of my father's penis and my mother making love.
Later, when I was thirteen or fourteen, the girl next door and I saw each other's penises and genitals. I even had some naive sex with them, just like my parents. I remember that time, I accidentally tore the frenulum of my penis, and it's still short to this day. Later, I secretly looked at the uncle next door's penis, and from then on, I became interested in penises. Perhaps these childhood behaviors led to my current bisexuality.
I'm writing this today to release some of my inner feelings, and I also really want to remind everyone that we must avoid having sex with children and provide them with sex education. Children's thoughts will inevitably lead them to other things, which can result in sexual deviations in adulthood, such as homosexuality or bisexuality. I've also met many gay friends in the community. Although I don't oppose it, I, myself and others, always feel it's a bit of a regret in life.

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A deep-seated hurdle: Spying on my parents making love as a child

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